A Very Possible Kiss
by Shaggley
Summary: Look who's under the mistletoe.
1. A Very Possible Introduction

Question.

How much time does it take to **change one's life**?

Years?

Days?

There's plenty of literature out there (and in here, also) which tries to ask this question. **Dante **had to take a long journey throught Hell, Purgatory and Heaven to make his day.

**Iago **had to repeat his work of damnation over Othello in the course of days in order to cause his dismay.

The **Old Man **had to fight with a gargatuan fish for days, in the middle of the sea, with no food, water and only the laughs of waves as company.

But sometimes, it takes much less time.

Sometimes, it can be a matter of seconds.

Say... **twenty seconds**.


	2. Nineteen

_I don't own Kim Possible, yadda yadda yadda._

_Can I at least have Shego?_

* * *

**_Kim_**

When Kim Possible sat down before the fire in Drakken's last escaping pod, she would have never imagined what was bound to happen in the next twenty seconds.

The only things she knew, when she moved her eyes to her right to look at the various christmas decorations Drakken had put in the pod, was that she encountered instead Shego's gaze, sat down next to her, arms around her knees.

She felt something strange when their gazes locked, like a feeling of contentment she haven't experienced from that time when, as a toddler, she had fit together two pieces of a puzzle, with her short fingers of little baby. The sensation of finding something new from two pieces which the moment before looked utterly alien and totally different had been exilharating, and so it had been in that precise moment when she had started looking deep into Shego's eyes, exploring the small hue of color around her pupils and the variations of green shade in her cornea.  
To the question why she should focus on Shego's beautiful eyes instead of rejoicing about having found Ron again, she couldn't have answered at the moment.

Nor she could have answered why she was feeling this connected to Shego, to her eyes and to the soul behind those eyes, which she could feel pulsing and moving in a rythm that matched her own... but it wasn't possible.  
No, oh, no, it wasn't possible: what she had felt... sure was something else.  
She was positive about it; she _wasn't_ feeling connection with Shego, like a deep current of light that flew from her archenemy's eyes to her own, something warm and pleasant and unknown... like the warmth from the fire which was crackling near her... but another kind of warmth, one that originated from within, and from within spreaded around the body... on her chest, making it fall up... and... down... _no_!  
She wasn't, she wasn't! Not with Shego... please, not with Shego, everyone... _everyone_ but Shego.

* * *

_**Shego**  
_

_I swear that I expected nothing like this.  
Having Dr. D bring me and Kimmie together inside of his crappily decorated escaping pod was one thing, but being forced to sit next to her, well that was..._

_Strange._

_I mean, when you are used to figh against someone, constantly experiencing her blows and kicks collide with your own smooth, soft and oh-so-delicate skin, you don't expect to find yourself in such a peaceful situation with said someone._

_I was feeling a little uneasy, and sat down with my arms around my knees, enjoying the light of the fire; its warmness cannot penetrate my plasma-resistant skin, so I settled for the changing tongues_

_of red and orange light._

_Orange._

_I moved my eyes on the left, wondering when exactly Pumpkin was going to stand up and leave me alone by the fire; I met her gaze._  
_Locked on it._

_Crap._

_I tried to move my head, or at least my eyes, but it looked like the signal cannot enter into my dumb brain._  
_Move, you fool, I thought with the first tentacles of fear starting to get a grip on my chest._  
_Look at something else._  
_Like... the room, the silly furniture, the buffoon's shadow moving around. Just, don't look – don't look into those deep, lovingly round green eyes, or those dark pupils which holds secrets that could reduce you into ashes..._  
_Don't you dare to think about their shade of olive, so much like your own, another of the things that make you feel linked to her, connected, bounded to her._  
_Don't you dare wondering what's happening inside that pretty head of hers, all full of goodness and teenage crap and courage and honor and..._

_Damn._  
_Please no._  
_Everything but this._  
_Everyone else, please._  
_Everyone else but Pumpkin._

* * *

_**To Be Continued**... take nineteen insulin shots._

* * *

**_Author's Christmas' Note:_**

_Do you like to open your christmas present before it's due time?_  
_I certainly do._  
_So, here we are: _A Very Possible Kiss_ is my christmas present to you all, a present which is made by a lot of layers, which you will be able to unfold day-by-day!_

_I hope there will be enough fluff to choke you on it – I had to take insulin shots for writing it, for sure._  
_Ah, one last thing: if you want to leave a review, which will be answered and much, much appreciated, I'd like to say to me if you have read every word of this story, or if you have skimmed through a line or two... **it's vital for me to know it**, so please and thank you again!_

_With love,_

_Shaggley._

_Oh._

_There's someone, there, asking a question._  
_Yes?_  
_Oh, oh I understand... well yes I know: from here to christmas there are still twenty-three days, and the seconds are just twenty._

_Who said there isn't a reason for that... ?_


	3. Eighteen

_I still don't own Kim Possible._

_But I have a Pandaroo._

* * *

**Kim**

If there was one thing Kim Possible longed for in her life, it was connection.

Everything she did, from hanging out with friends to hugging her pandaroo to save the world on a weekly basis, it was done in order to help her feel connected, linked, to that world.

It wasn't easy to feel that way when one is a straight-A student who knows sixteen styles of martial arts and toss around henchmen like tennis balls. It sort of tended to scare people away, but the ones who actually helped her with her missions... most of the time, she was alone in a crowd into which she tried desperatedly to fit.

But, when she started feeling that sense of connection with Shego, of all people, she wasn't glad; she wasn't glad of the current of warmth that was running from her archnemesis's eyes into her own, she wasn't glad of the strange shifting in balance that was trying to bring her body toward that of the green woman.  
Such a feeling was impossible, was _wrong_; and was likewise wrong the sense of calmness which numbed her senses and was keeping her from moving her eyes away, standing up and flee into the arms of Ron, that much wrong to be wondeful.

Why Shego? What was keeping her into that wonderful, frightening state of bond with her nemesis, an enemy who tried more than one time to maim her, even... kill her?  
Was the shocked, implorant look in the deeps of those wonderfully green eyes, shining it tha paleness of her face like small stars of emerald?

Was the slightly opened mouth, like frozen between words, with those generous lips she has always been so much jealous?

They were incompatible, totally opposites: she was a hero, Shego was a damn good villain; she was a clumsy girl with no sense whatsoever in fashion, Shego seemed to always find what was better to make her figure and beauty stand out; she was a lithe teenage, Shego had the forms of a grown woman; they were... opposites, and _still_she was feeling that sense of connection with an hideous, horrible, wonderful villain!

But, with a flick of Shego's eyes and a subtle change into her pupils, Kim felt something click into her heart, send a note to her mind, and when her brain read it, she knew from where that wrong, lovely feeling of bonding was born.

* * *

**Shego**

_I prefer to be left alone._

_Don't try to keep me interested, don't act like whinies around me, and I might even refrain from burning you to a lump of ashes. If the day is good._

_I'm self-sufficient, perfectly adept at what I do, with no need for anyone or anything but a bed, a big UV lamp and a few million dollars in cash._  
_I am _the_ Shego and I need no one!_

_Therefore, when I felt that connection with Pumpkin, it was totally unexpected._

_I mean._

_If someone has ever said to you that old line, 'opposites attract', find him and punch him in the face. Hard. Do it in my name._

_No one in this world really feel connected with someone who is her opposite._  
_It's just not possible._

_Look at me._

_I'm the wonderful villain, evil and free like a bird of prey, and she's the goody-goody one who needs to respond of everything to her freaking mother, from clothes to when she comes back home at night._  
_I'm the deviously sexy woman, and she has this lithe body which wouldn't appeal no one._  
_Except for the definition of her muscles, which is wonderful._  
_And the slim, healthy, strong aura that pervades it._  
_And her long fingers._  
_And her silky hairs of which I could have been jealous if only mine wouldn't have been so much better, but anyway I'm not jealous in the littlest._

_But, my point is!_

_I am the villain, and I have nothing to do, nothing to share with a teenage goody-two-shoes who still needs to spend christmas with her family!_

_And, most important of anything else, she's a _cheerleader_._

_But I'm looking her in the eyes, and I cannot close them, move them, or stop thinking at how wonderful they are, so near and so far, between the rift that divides the weak ones from the strong ones._

_Then, there's a flick of light in her pupils, and something grows in the inner parts of my being, something only now I start to consider. Yes, she's the hero, she's my enemy, she's my rival... she's my..._

_Oh, crap._

_So, _that's_ why I'm feeling this, huh?_

_I'm so doomed._

* * *

_**To Be Continued**_... take eighteen cuddle buddies with you.

* * *

_Thank to everyone who read, enjoyed and commented on this!_

_You are a wonderfully wonderful paragon of wonderfullness._

_Anyway, I still need to know if you have read every word of this or if you have skimmed through something; please, it's really important for me and the future of my writing._

_**Help** a poor author, please._

_After all, it's almost christmas._


	4. Seventeen

_Still nothing about owning Kim Possible._

_But if you'd like to send me a present for christmas... *hint, hint*_

* * *

_**Kim**_

In the beginning, there was Drakken; he had represented her step-up from a girl who helped here and there a few civilians from floods, icebergs and falling sputniks, to a world-saver against super villains armed with mortal gizmos.  
Everyone had understood that he, and no one other, was her true archenemy: Ron, Wade, her family... even the Doctor himself perceived as her nemesis.

She had believed that too, for a couple of weeks, at least after her second mission after the mad scientist who was going to cover Winsconsin with a feet-thick layer of magma; the threat was enormous, and it was her responsability to stop him, to enter into the control chamber of the "magmachine" and stop it, it was her duty.

Wrong, it had been Ron's. She had darted to search for Shego, and had left her sidekick with the task to stop Drakken; at time, in the heat of the battle and of the jealousy for that green jacket that clung so well to her figure – much better than it would have ever done to hers – she hadn't gave the thought that she wasn't facing her true, sworn enemy much credit.

It was only when a pattern emerged during next missions, she tackling Shego, and Ron busy to infinite sessions of thumb war with Drakken, that she had started to think that maybe, just maybe, just because the one who was always struggling with was Shego, the one who was sharing with witty retorts with was Shego, the one who she was looking for to fight and exchange blows with was Shego... and Drakken was reduced to a sort of nutty background decoration... that her true enemy was Shego.

And, in time, when she felt her skills refining, her strength growing, she had started to understand that she had done so in order to fight Shego, in order to beat her, to show that _she_ was the best; she was the hero, she _had_ to be the best, and her process of being the best _was_the process of fighting Shego... in a wrongsick way, it made sense... sort of.

Not that she'd care for her... it was a ridicolous thought, one that she had never had, pixie promise.

But, in the end... Shego was written in every move, in every stance, in every smirk she had put on her mouth in the last two years; and that was the reason why she couldn't divert her attention from her archenemy's deep green eyes, for all that she wanted desperatedly to.

Because in a way or another, they were her own.

* * *

**Shego**

_At first, it had seemed a minor nuisance._

_After all, how much punch could pack a fifteen year old girl?_

_When she had been tossed through the doors of that damn fast-fooding place and hitting a bulky man in the chest, she had understood that that particular girl could pack a lot of it – one of the reasons why Dr. D had started to hire henchmen too._

_It had been a waste of money, but from that day on her priorities had shifted; before, the most exciting thing she managed to do in all her day was dilecting herself with sneaking through laser grids, breaking and entering into all-proof vaults, and filing her nails. Afterward, there was Kimmie, who had become the focal point of her thoughts, of her sessions with the punching balls and the prize at the end of a long day of work._

_To the point that she had mentally separated her life into two periods: B.P. (Before Pumpkin) and A.P. (After Pumpkin)..._

_And, as much as that had meant fighting on a weekly basis with un unsufferable, goody-goody cheerleader with a messiah complex, it had been a change for the better._  
_Now she had to endure, other than her usual blu doofus, a blonde, freckled one, but she also had someone to... wait for._

_Not to care for._

_Not in the littlest!_

_Honest!_

_But, yes, someone to_

_teach; and Kimmie had started to improve in the last months, shifting from defensive stances to actually exchanging blows with her. No wonder that every time she faced Pumpkin she felt her blood pumping, her lungs breathing fresher air, her eyes focus; no wonder she felt this connection with her._

_Damn._

_She was, after all, her teacher._

* * *

**_To Be Continued_**... _there are still at least sixteen balls of fluff to choke on!_

* * *

_Thank to everyone who read, enjoyed and commented on this, again!_

_A particular aknolowdgement to everyone who said how this has been read; I'm really glad you read every word, it looks like what I'm trying to do it's working!_

_But anyway, **please continue to tell me, and please leave a comment!**_

_Than you, thank you, thank you!_


	5. Sixteen

_Nothing new about owning Kim Possible._

_Oh, well. For all I care..._

_Seriously, I _don't_ care._

_Not in the slightest._

_And that whiskey it's there just for decoration... leave me alone now, ok?_

_*Sniff*_

_And I'm not sad, ok?  
_

_Ok?_

*Sniff* 

* * *

_**Kim**_

In all her life, Kim Possible had felt something like that only a few times; it had happened, violently, when she had had her first crush on Josh Mankey, and it had been like one of Drakken's death rays had struck her in the middle of the chest, changing her perception of the world and making her head spin.

But, well, this time it was much more slower, more like a warm, golden bubble of connection that has started in the middle of their gazes and had grown to embrace them, cutting them off from the outside world into their own, little one.

A world where the laws of physics where strange, new, and enticing, a world where she started to remember things that she wanted to keep secret, thoughts that she had crushed, ideas too dangerous for a teenage girl... memories of forgotten things, forgotten hours spent wondering if Shego's skin could be always so smooth, when not under her own fist or kicks.

She was just asking that just out of curiosity, because after all having a smooth skin was good for the social food chain... and, and... for making Bonnie jealous and being more attractive to Josh and... and stuff.

Into that silent, warm world now she... and Shego where in, Kim's mind continued to spin, to fill with fluffy things and strange thoughts, like how would it be to caress those wonderful straight hairs... just because it was one of the things she was jealous... she couldn't be... there was no possibility that she... no, no, she just was jealous and wondered how could it be to pass her fingers throught those black locks, feeling their silk quality tickle her skin... just a few times, up and down, up and down... maybe it would have been fun to do that while hugging her...

_Hugging...?_Well... just in order to keep her more comfy,... not that she was, she wasn't surely... that warm sensation of incredible connection with the woman before her surely meant nothing... all those episodes...

Oh, god, all _those_ episodes... she didn't _want_ to think about them, but, while she began to feel her head moving in the slightest toward Shego's, she felt again her bubbly mind feel with a torrent of thoughts, of guilty pleausures, of forbidden memories... no, she wasn't thinking about them, she wasn't thinking about – about... about that one time...

* * *

**Shego**

_This was transfer._

_Well, a sort of._  
_She knew transfer from her days studying child psychology, and she had feared it then; that modification of the relationship between the care provider and the patient, where the patient started to feel all those... emotions for her doctor... it was an abomination._

_Too bad it was also wonderful._

_Still looking into Pumpkin's eyes, Shego couldn't let go the thought that what was happening to her was, deeply, her fault._  
_Like an atonement of a sort for all her past mistakes._

_She was sentenced to feel that incredible warmth, and fondness for her little redheaded student, for her wonderful mane, for those green eyes, for that little mouth... all because she had dared considering Kim Possible her student._

_And an exceptional one, too._

_Not that, at first, she had been in the littles interested in her moves, or in the way how, from time to time, her sweater lifted just enough to let her take a peek at her torso, or the amazing in which her cargo pants, for a reason or another... clung... to her, well._

_To her – heh, hehm – say, to her... backside._

_'Pumpkin' wasn't intended just for the hairs._

_Not that she knew anything about how it actually was, but more than one time she had wondered if it would be as... tasty to bite as it looke-_

The point was_, Shego forced herself to think, putting her mind back on the tracks of reason, that her interest – if interest was - for Princess had grown over time, but had remained hidden, underground, awakened only when Kimmie and her were stumbling on the floor, pinning each other, with the occasional and totally unwilling rubbing of their chest, or the mixing of their breaths, with that wonderful hint of strawberry from Kimmie's lips, and... who knows, maybe..._

But!

_But... but now all these moments suddenly started to make sense, to elighten a thread, a path, to show the lines of force that were moving her head, a millimeter per century, toward that of Pumpkin._

_Not that they were memories that she liked to think about a lot._

_Honest._

_And after all, six or seven times per day _wasn't_ "a lot"!_

_But they definitely showed a thread.  
And the beginning of that thread was..._

* * *

**_To Be Continued_**... _after I'll take my sixteen shots of whiskey_.

* * *

_**Author's Note Again and Again:**_

_Again and again, thank to everyone who commented and read this, you are amazing!_

_Still need your comments and feelings, though._

_In fact, I think I'll need them still for a long, long time..._

Is there something that I have to add?

Oh, yes. 

_Thank you all!_


	6. Fifteen

_I did a little count, and I knew that, in five months, I have read something like three hundreds KiGo stories, for a total of about **thirty million words** read._

_If put one after the other, they would make a line six hundreds chilometers long!_

_And **still **I don't own Kim Possible?_

_You're a meanie, Disney. _

* * *

**Kim**

It had been the fourth or fifth time she fought Drakken, whe she noted for the first time that the way Shego's catsuit hung on her archenemy's body had been... appealing; the way those wonderful green eyes showed mirth, and not just hate, the way those fingers grappled around her own... it had distracted her during the fight, preventing her from winning it.

And, when she was pinned down on the floor by Shego's sheer force, she had felt the will, just for one moment, but it had been, to remain down there. Luckily, it had lasted just one, guilty, minute, and then she had been able to fight back, using her embarassment to fuel her anger... at least until, back home after having ruined another 'greatest plan ever', she had collapsed on her bed, and had started thinking again about those... feelings.

She _couldn't_be attracted to Shego, she had said to her Pandaroo, who knew all her secrets; but the stuffed toy had looked back at her with his plastic eyes and used his famous who-are-you-trying-to-fool look. She could lie to herself, but not to her Pandaroo, and she wasn't going to treat her stuffed toy as any other piece of fluff cuddlebuddy, those eyes had said.

Therefore, she had tossed it aside and had tried to let the turmoil inside her heart subside under the waves of habit: during the next days, she had tried not to think about the last episode with Shego, trying in every way possible to distract herself, may it be with cheerleader practice or the next plan by the Seniors to conquer the world's supply of hair gel, may it be fooling out with Ron or continue to please everyone like the good girl she had been raised. A good girl didn't like other girls – she liked boys!

Every time she returned to her room, the motionless eyes of her Pandaroo scowled her.

But what _could_have she done, other than not trying to think about it, forcing her mind to not picture the way those long hairs clunged on Shego's neck, the delicious mirth in her eyes, the wonderful curves of her toned body? She had spent a week trying to control her own mind, and, even if she couldn't avoid her brain to... "slip"... on an hourly base, she had felt that, after all, had been just a momentary feeling, just the mistake of an instant, just nothing, in the end...

She had almost started to believe it, until the 'Bonnie Accident'.

* * *

**Shego**

_... it was the 'Green and Black Accident', how she had started to call it, one month, two days and a couple of hours After Pumpkin, that rocked her world._

_Stealing from Club Banana had been an habit taken during long years of thieving, and, being sensible to things like fashion, she had not hesitated to "borrow for an unlimited time" the very latest jacket, a wonderful black thingie that hugged her frame like it was painted._

_Therefore, who was Pumpkin to make fun of her and saying that green was the new black? Like a little girl who wore fleece was able to give anyone fashion tips!_

_Do-oy, please._

_It was ridicolous._

_And after all, she had never understood what had pushed her to break&enter into another Club Banana warehouse, that night, and coming out with every green piece she had managed to put her hands on._

_Maybe it just had something to do with how her mind worked; and it had nothing to do with any sort of fondness or thrill for what would have been the reaction of that small redhead, even if, when she had seen her eyes grow at the look of her own smoking body into that green that was the new black, but on her everything was good enough, there had been a pleasant feeling running over her spine._

_A brief one._

_Maybe she hadn't even feel that at all._

_Anyway, that didn't change the fact that, in the end, she had committed the biggest mistake of her criminal career, a few hours later, when she had "moved" a few cash from the Buffoon's account – created for inventing some horrible fast food mix called "maco" or "knaco" or something like that -, labeling it as as bonus, along with a note "suggesting" him to... spend it in a certain way._

_She couldn't give Pumpkin that green jacket herself, after all, she had a name to defend._

_And it was a one-time slip, nothing she couldn't label as a mistake and going on._

_Yeah, right. If only that had happened just one time, it would have been possible..._

* * *

_**To Be Continued**... fourteen it's the lucky number._

* * *

_Here we are again; I renew my thanks to everyone who read this, enjoyed this, and left a comment. In particular, I'd like to thank **DeskTopDuck** who wrote why this wasn't enjoyed, and** Lognite** and **IdrewAcow**, who both spoke their mind about how they were reading the story and what did they feel while reading it._

That's exactly what I was looking for, and I'm thanking them personally!

You are wonderful!

And about that, we are starting to enter into the real tricky part of my short story. Still fluffy, but with the past in it... see you next time, guys!

And don't forget to speak your mind: have you read every word? Did you enjoyed it? Did you preferred to have me impaled on a stick?

Speak your mind!  


_P.S._

Extra bonus to who guess why fourteen it's a lucky number and to what I was referring to...


	7. Fourteen

_I don't own Kim Possible._

_So what?_

_I'm still writing this._

* * *

**Kim **

For five years, Bonnie Rockwaller had been the bane of her existance.

Making fun of her, belittling her in front of Ron, of Monique, of her friends and classmates; trying to steal her role as captain of the cheerleader squad; always tryin to hit a nerve, to make her angry, to fill her with shame.

Even that one time, after cheerleader practice, between the steamy clouds that filled the locker room, she had started again her ranting; and that time, it had burned in some way _hotter_that before... and she had slapped Bonnie right in the face, with a thundering sound in the little room. It had seemed like the right thing to do, while she was looking at her with rage, her arm still raised, her hand bruising, her breath ragged with fury.

The other two cheerleaders run out of the room, sensing the volcano about to explode... maybe Hope and Tara, she couldn't really remember, she was just focused on the disbelieved look on Bonnie's face... on her veiled eyes, and her sweaty body, her scent filling her nostrils, coming closer until she managed to put a trembling hand on her cheek.

Bonnie's voice was shivering, and in between cracked syllables, she only accomplished to ask her one thing.  
Did she hate her _that _much?

Kim, still with a ragged breath from the outburst, had been unable to answer, or to move, when the look in her rival's eyes had took a stern quality, and frowning, had put closer her face to her own; Kim had been startled, and into her chest panic had burst. Panic, and maybe... something more.

Because, had said her damn rival, the girl who had been sure to make every day she spent at school a raging hell, that tanned, brown-haired girl, with those blue-green eyes getting closer and closer, bigger and bigger like two pools into which dive, she had had the courage to say: because, she... she _didn't_.

And then those blue eyes closed, she had moved her generous lips on her own pinky ones, and had savoured the forbidden fruit. It had the taste of her lip gloss and of the sweat from the practice, the sheer energy of electricity and... and something like that... something that could make your lips feel so good and so warm, and so soft, and so moist, and she had started to close her eyes, when Bonnie had pulled back her mouth, looked at her with pure loathe in her face, and had spitted at her that she was a _stupid_, Possible!

Then, she had dashed out of the room, and Kim had been able just to move her fingers on her lips and feel the ghost of Bonnie's on her own...

* * *

**Shego**

_The second time, too, had been with fashion._

_It looked like it was a pattern._

_She was proud of her appearance – the flashing catsuit, green and black, hugging her figure and menacing, in a way._

_Nothing like the simple top and cargo pants of a certain cheerleader. It also let her midriff bare... a... lovely midriff for sure, but still, but still..._

But still_, she had found herself into one of the warehouses where all the Kimmie-like clothes were kept, during that brief period when everyone, from housecats to CEOs, looked into Pumpkin's look._

_Not that she had wondered why. Or that she _knew_ why – maybe it could have something to do with, say, the way that top hugged her curves and that lean...torso... or exposed that tight waist and that smooth skin... no, no, no: _nothing_ like that._

_And, a night with a full moon, she had tried on a few of those clothes – a few dozens actually, but _a few_nonetheless -, watching her frame entering and exiting from a blurry of black tops, olive pants, utility belts, trying a few of the moves she had seen Princess try herself, even speking a few of her daunting catchphrases._

Stay right there, Shego!

_I have you, Shego!_

I arrest you for being too much sexy, Shego...

_Bah, it didn't make sense._

_How could Pumpkin wear such things, that left so much of her skin exposed? She was a young girl after all... someone could... be... appealed at that show?_  
_It was... disgusting._

_Tch._

_A few minutes later, with a snarl of contempt, and a few bags full of black tops and cargo pants, she left the warehouse._

* * *

_**To Be Continued**__... thirteen it's the unlucky number, the one who brings misfortune._

* * *

Thank you thank you thank you!

_The last chapter received a record of visits and of reviews, so I'm huggin' you all and filling the world with KiGoness!_

_Now, seriously._

_There reference to the 14 as a lucky number lies in the deeps of the works of Tolkien – fourteen it's the number of the Valar, therefore... but good guess **IdrewAcow**!_

_Also special thanks to __**ledilettant**__, __**lognite**__ and __**mauser1888**__ (who receives also my greatest praises for the pickelaube helmet; I think you will enjoy my KP steampunk short novel! :3), who wrote their impressions on the writing itself and if they liked the pace, and if they have read __**every**__ word.__** That's exactly what I need**__, therefore, please keep it up and help a poor writer._

Also... I like KiBo (Kim/Bonnie) a lot; it's maybe my second favourite pairing, along with Ron/Shego and Kim/Anne... but _**who**__ this Anne is, I let it to your fantasies to picture._

_You perverts.  
You will **never** trick me into writing something like that, ever!  
_


End file.
